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Class IP 5 ItM ^ 

Book ■ ■ ' '/:> /■Tyo ^ 

By bcMjiiest of ' 

William Lukens Shoemaker 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY WILLIAM WATSON 

Poems 

Lachrymae Musarum 
Lyric Love, an Anthology 
The Prince's Quest 
The Eloping Angels 
Odes and other Poems 
The Father of the Forest 
The Year of Shame 
Excursions in Criticism 



THE 

HOPE OF THE WORLD 

And Other Poems 

BY 

WILLIAM WATSON 



\ 



JOHN LANE: THE BODLEY HEAD 
NEW YORK AND LONDON 

1898 






Copyright, 1897 
By John Lane 

oifi. 
T S '08 



I 

r TO 

f. 

!). RICHARD GARNETT, Esq., C.B., LL.D. 



Mr DEAR DR. GARNETTy 

It so happens that you and I have some early 
associations in conwion — associations which gather around 
a certain lovely Yorkshire dale, where part of your youth 
was passed, and where I was born. Nature and circum- 
stance having thus given me one link with you, may I not 
myself add another by placing my name as near as possible 
to your ozuny and so perpetuating a neighbourly tradition P 
Forgive me for taking this easiest way of doing myself 

honour. 

And believe me. 

Tours ever sincerely, 

WILLIAM WATSON. 



VENTNOR. 

Nov. 1897. 



CONTENTS 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD i 

Higher than heaven they sit 

THE UNKNOWN GOD 17 

When, overarched by gorgeous night 

ODE IN MAY 23 

Let me go forth, and share 

ESTRANGEMENT 31 

So, without overt breach, we tall apart 

AN INSCRIPTION AT WINDERMERE • - • 33 
Guest of this fair abode, before thee rise 

THE HEIGHTS AND THE DEEPS .... 36 
This is the summit, wild and lone 

A FLY-LEAF POEM 38 

Here, in this book, the wise may find 

TO MRS. HERBERT STUDD 39 

Amid the billowing leagues of Sarum Plain 



viii ' * CONTENTS 

PAGE 

SONG 41 

April, April 

THEV AND WE ^2 

With stormy joy, from height on height 

TO S. W. IN THE FOREST 43 

Fugitive to Fontaincbleau 

THE CAPTIVE'S DREAM 45 

From birtli we have his captives been 

TO THE LADV KATHARINE MANNERS . . 47 

On lake and toll the loud rains boat 

INVENTION 50 

I envy not tlie Lark liis song divine 

THE LURE 51 

Come hither and behold them, Sweet 

THE LOST EDEN 53 

But yesterday was Man from Eden driven 

TO THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH .... 56 

Idle the churlish le;igues 'twixt you and me 

A COURTEZAN — A PATRON 58 

Consider her: a woman in wlu se heart 

ELUSION . , 59 

Where shall I lind thee, Joy ? by what great 
maige 



CONTENTS ix 

PAGE 

TOO LATE 6i 

Too late to say farewell 

JUBILEE NIGHT IN WESTMORLAND ... 65 

Through that majestic and sonorous day 

HELLAS, HAIL! 70 

Little land so great of heart 

AFTER DEFEAT 75 

Pray, what chorus tljis ? At the tragedy's end, what 
chorus ? 

THE THREE NEIGHBOURS 77 

Jack, and his brother Sandy, long had been 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 

I 

Higher than heaven they sit, 

Life and her consort Law ; 
And One whose countenance lit 

In mine more perfect awe, 
I fain had deemed their peer, 

Beside them throned above : 
Ev'n him who casts out fear. 

Unconquerable Love. 
Ah, 'twas on earth alone that I his beauty 
saw. 



2. THE HDPE OF THE WORLD 

II 

On earth, in homes of men, 

In hearts that crave and die, 
Dwells he not also, then, 

With Godhead, throned on high? 
This and but this I know : 

His face I see not there: 
Here find I him below, 

Nor find him otherwhere; 
Born of an aching world, Pain's bridegroom. 
Death's ally. 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 



in 



Did Heaven vouchsafe some sign 

That through all Nature's frame 
Boundless ascent benign 

Is everywhere her aim, 
Such as man hopes it here, 

Where he from beasts hath risen, — 
Then might I read full clear, 

Ev'n in my sensual prison, 
That Life and Law and Love are one 
symphonious name. 



4 THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 

IV 

Such sign hath Heaven yet lent ? 

Nay, on this eaCrth, are we 
So sure 't is real ascent 

And inmost gain we see ? 
'Gainst Evil striving still, 

Some spoils of v/ar we wrest : 
Not to discover 111 

Were haply state as blest. 
We vaunt, o'er doubtful foes, a dubious 
victory. 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 



In cave and bosky dene 

Of old there crept and ran 
The gibbering form obscene 

That was and was not man. 
With fairer covering clad 

The desert beasts went by; 
The couchant lion had 

More speculative eye, 
And goodlier speech the birds, than we when 
we began. 



THE 4I0PE OF THE WORLD 



VI 

A flattering dream were this — 

That Earth, from primal bloom, 
With pangs of prescient bliss 

Divined us in her womb; 
That fostering powers have made 

Our fate their secret care. 
And wooed us, grade by grade, 

Up winding stair on stair: 
But not for golden fancies iron truths make 
room. 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 

VII 

Rather, some random throw 

Of heedless Nature's die 
'T would seem, that from so low 

Hath lifted man so high. 
Through untold aeons vast 

She let him lurk and cower : 
'T would seem he climbed at last 

In mere fortuitous hour, 
Child of a thousand chances 'neath the 
indifferent sky. 



§ THE KOPE OF THE WORLD 

VIII 

A soul so long deferred 
In his blind brain he bore, 

It might have slept unstirred 
Ten million noontides more. 

Yea, round him Darkness might 
* Till now her folds have drawn, 

O'er that enomious night 
So casual came the dawn, 
Such hues of hap and hazard IMan's 

Emerefence wore ! 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 9 

IX 

If, then, our rise from gloom 

Hath this capricious air. 
What ground is mine to assume 

An upward process tJicrCy 
In yonder worlds that shine 

From alien tracts of sky? 
Nor ground to assume is mine 

Nor warrant to deny. 
Equal, my source of hope, my reason for 
despair. 



iQ THE H€PE OF THE WORLD 



And though within me here 

Hope lingers unsubdued, 
'T is because airiest cheer 

Suffices for her food ! 
As some adventurous flower, 

On savage crag-side grown. 
Seems nourished hour by hour 

From its wild self alone, 
So lives inveterate Hope, on her own hardi- 
hood. 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD ii 



XI 

She tells me, whispering low : 

" Wherefore and whence thou wast, 
Thou shalt behold and know 

When the great bridge is crossed. 
For not in mockery He 

Thy gift of wondering gave. 
Nor bade thine answer be 

The blank stare of the grave. 
Thou shalt behold and know; and find 
again thy lost." 



12 THE HQPE OF THE WORLD 

XII 

With rapt eyes fixed afar, 

She tells me: "Throughout Space, 
Godward each peopled star 

Runs with thy Earth a race. 
Wouldst have the goal so nigh, 

The course so smooth a field, 
That Triumph should thereby 

One half its glory yield ? 
And can Life's pyramid soar all apex and no 
base?" 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 13 

XIII 

She saith : " Old dragons lie 

In bowers of pleasance curled ; 
And dost thou ask me why? 

It is a Wizard's world ! 
Enchanted princes these, 

Who yet their scales shall cast, 
And through his sorceries 

Die into kings at last. 
Ambushed in Winter's heart the rose of June 
is furled." 



14 . THE I^OPE OF THE WORLD 

XIV 

Such are the talcs she tells: 

Who trusts, the happier he : 
But nought of virtue dwells 

In that felicity ! 
I think the harder feat 

Were his who should zvithstand 
A voice so passing sweet, 

And so profuse a hand. — 
Hope, I forego the wealth thou fiing'st 
abroad so free! 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD 15 

XV 

Carry thy largesse hence, 

Light Giver ! Let me learn 
To abjure the opulence 

I have done nought to earn; 
And on this world no more 

To cast ignoble slight, 
Counting it but the door 

Of other worlds more bright. 
Here, where I faii or conquer, here is my 
concern : 



i6 . THE HORE OF THE WORLD 

XVI 

Here, where perhaps alone 

I conquer or I fail^ • 
Here, o'er the dark Deep blown, 

I ask no perfumed gale ; 
I ask the unpampering breath 

That fits me to endure 
♦ Chance, and victorious Death, 

Life, and my doom obscure. 
Who know not whence I am sped, nor to 
what port I sail. 



THE UNKNOWN GOD 

When, overarched by gorgeous night, 
I wave my trivial self away; 

When all I was to all men's sight 
Shares the erasure of the day ; 

Then do I cast my cumbering load, 

Then do I gain a sense of God. 

Not him that with fantastic boasts 

A sombre people dreamed they knew ; 
The mere barbaric God of Hosts 



That edged their sword and braced their 
thew : 



iS ' TH£ UNKNOWN GOD 

A God they pitted 'gainst a swarm 
Of neighbour Gods less vast of arm; 

A God like some imperious king, 

Wroth, were his realm not duly awed ; 

A God for ever hearkening 

Unto his self-commanded laud; 

A God for ever jealous grown 

Of carven wood and graven stone; 

A God whose ghost, in arch and aisle. 
Yet haunts his temple — and his tomb; 

But follows in a little while 
Odin and Zeus to equal doom ; 

A God of kindred seed and line; 



Man's giant shadow, hailed divine. 



THE UNKNOWN GOD 19 

O streaming worlds, O crowded sky, 

O Life, and mine own soul's abyss, 
Myself am scarce so small that I 

Should bow to Deity like this! 
This my Begetter? This was what 
Man in his violent youth begot. 

The God I know of, I shall ne'er 
Know, though he dwells exceeding nigh. 

Raise thou the stojie and find me there, 
Cleave thou the wood and there am L 

Yea, in my flesh his spirit doth flow, 

Too near, too far, for me to know. 

Whate'er my deeds, I am not sure 
That I can pleasure him or vex: 



20 . TH|: UNKNOWN GOD 

I that must use a speech so poor 

It narrows the Supreme with sex. 
Notes he the good or ill in man? 
To hope he cares is all I can. 

I hope — with fear. For did I trust 
This vision granted me at birth, 

The sire of heaven would seem less just 
Than many a faulty son of earth. 

And so he seems indeed ! But then, 

I trust it not, this bounded ken. 

And dreaming much, I never dare 
To dream that in my prisoned soul 

The flutter of a trembling prayer 

Can move the Mind that is the Whole. 



THE UNKNOWN GOD 21 

Though kneeling nations watch and yearn, 
Does the primordial purpose turn? 

Best by remembering God, say some. 

We keep our high imperial lot. 
Fortune, I fear, hath oftenest come 

When we forgot — when we forgot ! 
A lovelier faith their happier crown. 
But history laughs and weeps it down ! 

Know they not well, how seven times seven, 
Wronging our mighty arms with rust. 

We dared not do the work of heaven 
Lest heaven should hurl us in the dust? 

The work of heaven ! 'T is waiting still 

The sanction of the heavenly v/ill. 



22 . THi;, UNKNOWN GOD 

Unmeet to be profaned by praise 
Is he whose coils the world enfold; 

The God on whom I ever gaze, 
The God I never once behold : 

Above the cloud, beneath the clod : 

The Unknown God, the Unknown God. 



ODE IN MAY 

Let me go forth, and share 
The overflowing Sun 
With one wise friend, or one 
Better than wise, being fair. 
Where the pewit wheels and dips 
On heights of bracken and ling. 
And Earth, unto her leaflet tips, 
Tingles with the Spring. 

What is so sweet and dear 

As a prosperous morn in May, 



24 ODE IN MAY 

The confident prime of the day, 
And the dauntless youth of the year, 
When nothing that asks for bliss, 
Asking aright, is denied. 
And half of the \yorld a bridegroom is. 
And half of the world a bride ? 



The Song of Mingling flows, 

Grave, ceremonial, pure, 

As once, from lips that endure, 

The cosmic descant rose. 

When the temporal lord of life. 

Going his golden way. 

Had taken a wondrous maid to wife 

That long had said him nay. 



ODE IN MAY 25 

For of old the Sun, our sire, 
Came wooing the mother of men, 
Earth, that was virginal then. 
Vestal fire to his fire. 
Silent her bosom and coy. 
But the strong god sued and pressed ; 
And born of their starry nuptial joy 
Are all that drink of her breast. 



And the triumph of him that begot. 

And the travail of her that bore. 

Behold, they are evermore 

As warp and weft in our lot. 

We are children of splendour and flame. 

Of shuddering, also, and tears. 



26 . , ODE IN MAY 

Magnificent out of the dust we came, 
And abject from the Spheres. 

O bright irresistible lord, 

We are fruit of Earth's womb, each one, 

And fruit of thy loins, O Sun, 

Whence first was the seed outpoured. 

To thee as our Father we bow. 

Forbidden thy Father to see, 

Who is older and greater than thou, as thou 

Art greater and older than we. 

Thou art but as a word of his speech, 
Thou art but as a wave of his hand ; 
Thou art brief as a glitter of sand 
'Twixt tide and tide on his beach; 



ODE IN MAY 27 

Thou art less than a spark of his fire, 
Or a moment's mood of his soul : 
Thou art lost in the notes on the lips of his 

choir 
That chant the chant of the Whole. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



ESTRANGEMENT 

So, without overt breach, we fall apart, 
Tacitly sunder — neither you nor I 
Conscious of one intelligible Why, 
And both, from severance, winning equal 

smart. 
So, with resigned and acquiescent heart, 
Whene'er your name on some chance lip may 

lie, 
I seem to see an alien shade pass by, 
A spirit wherein I have no lot or part. 



32 •■ i^STRANGEMENT 

Thus may a captive, in some fortress grim, 
From casual speech betwixt his warders, learn 
That June on her triumphal progress goes 
Through arched and bannered woodlands ; while 

for him 
She is a legend emptied of concern, 
And idle is the rumour of the rose. 



AN INSCRIPTION AT WINDERMERE 

Guest of this fair abode, before thee rise 
No summits vast, that icily remote 
Cannot forget their own magnificence 
Or once put off their kinghood ; but withal 
A confraternity of stateliest brows, 
As Alp or Atlas noble, in port and mien; 
Old majesties, that on their secular seats 
Enthroned, are yet of affable access 
And easy audience, not too great for praise, 
Not arrogantly aloof from thy concerns, 

c 



34 AN/ INSCRIPTION AT WINDERMERE 

Not vaunting their indifference to thy fate, 
Nor so august as to contemn thy love. 
Do homage to these suavely eminent; 
But privy to their bosoms wouldst thou 

be, . • 

There is a vale, whose seaward-parted 

lips 
Murmur eternally some half-divulged 
Reluctant secret, where thou may'st o'erhear 
The mountains interchange their confi- 
dences, 
Peak with his federate peak, that think aloud 
Their broad and lucid thoughts, in liberal 

day: 
Thither repair alone : the mountain heart 



AN- INSCRIPTION AT WINDERMERE 35 
Not two may enter; thence returning, tell 
What thou hast heard; and 'mid the 

immortal friends 
Of mortals, the selectest fellowship 
Of poets divine, place shall be found for 

thee. 



THE HEIGHTS AND THE DEEPS 

This is the summit, wild and lone. 
Westward the Cumbrian mountains stand. 
Let me look eastward on mine own 
Ancestral land. 

O sing me songs, O tell me tales, 
Of yonder valleys at my feet ! 
She was a daughter of these dales, 
A daughter sweet. 

Oft did she speak of homesteads there, 
And faces that her childhood knew. 



THE HEIGHTS AND THE DEEPS n 
She speaks no more ; and scarce I dare 
To deem it true, 

That somehow she can still behold 
Sunlight and moonlight, earth and sea, 
Which were among the gifts untold 
She gave to me. 



A FLY-LEAF POEM 

(TO A LITTLE GIRL, WITH A STORY-BOOK 
"WYxMPS," BY EVELYN SHARP) 

Here, in this book, the wise may find 
A world exactly to their mind. 
From fairy kings to talking fish, 
There 's everything such persons wish ! 

Sweeter little maid than you 
Never read a story through. 
Through a sweeter little book 
Little maid shall never look. 



TO MRS. HERBERT STUDD 

Amid the billowing leagues of Sarum Plain 
I read the heroic songs, which he, the 

bard* 
Of your own house and lineage, lovingly 
Hath fashioned, out of Ireland's deeds and 

dreams, 
And her far glories, and her ancient tears. 

The sheep-bells tinkled in the fold. Hard 

by. 

* Mr. Aubrey de Vere. 



40 /TO M|IS. HERBERT STUDD 

A whimpering pewit's desultory wing 
Made loneliness more manifestly lone. 
Friend, would you judge your poets, try 

them thus : 
Read them where rolls" the moorland, or 

the main ! 

Not light is then their ordeal, so to stand 
Neighboured by these large natural Pres- 
ences; 
Nor transitory their honour, who, like him. 
No inch of spiritual stature lose, 
Measured against the eternal amplitudes. 
And tested by the clear and healthful sky. 



SONG 

April, April, 

Laugh thy girlish laughter; 
Then, the moment after, 
Weep thy girlish tears, 
April, that mine ears 
Like a lover greetest, 
If I tell thee, sweetest. 
All my hopes and fears, 
April, April, 

Laugh thy golden laughter, 
But, the moment after, 
Weep thy golden tears ! 



THEY AND WE 

With stormy joy, from height on height, 
The thundering torrents leap. 

The mountain tops, with still delight, 
Their great inaction keep. 

Man only, irked by calm, and rent 

By each emotion's throes, 
Neither in passion finds content, 

Nor finds it in repose. 



TO S. W. IN THE FOREST 

Fugitive to Fontainebleau 

From this world of park and square, • 

Is our London, think you, so 

Super-erogantly fair 

That yourself it well can spare ? 

Does the Forest need you ? No ! 
Any hidden hollow there 
Sweet enough without you were. 
You are palpably de trop 
In the glades of Fontainebleau. 



44 , TO S. W. IN THE FOREST 
Ah, return ! — and unto where 
Winter never seems to know 
When to tarry, when to go, 
In your eyes and in your hair 
Bring the Spriijg from Fontainebleau. 



THE CAPTIVE'S DREAM 

From birth we have his captives been: 
For freedom, vain to strive ! 
This is our chamber: windows five 
Look forth on his demesne ; 

And each to its own several hue 
Translates the outward scene. 
We cannot once the landscape view 
Save with the painted panes between. 

Ah, if there be indeed 

Beyond one darksome door a secret stair, 



46 THE CAPTIVE'S DREAM 

That, winding to the battlements, shall lead 
Hence to pure light, free air! 
This is the master hope, or the supreme 
despair. 



TO THE LADY KATHARINE 
MANNERS 

(with a volume of the author's poems) 

On lake and fell the loud rains beat, 
And August closes rough and rude. 

'Twas Summer's whim, to counterfeit 
The wilder hours her hours prelude. 

And soon — pathetic last device 

Of greatness dead and puissance flown ! — 
She passes to her couch with thrice 

The pomp of coming to her throne. 



48 TO LADY CATHARINE MANNERS 

But while, by mountain and by mere, 
Summer and you are hovering yet, 

A vagrant Muse entreats your ear : 
Forgive her; and not quite forget! 

I would that nobler songs than these 
Her hands might proffer to your hands. 

I would their notes were as the sea's; 
I know their faults are as the sands. 

At least she prompts no vulgar strain; 

At least are noble themes her choice ; 
Nor hath she oped her lips in vain, 

For you take pleasure in her voice. 

And she hath known the mountain-spell ; 

The sky-enchantment hath she known. 
It was her vow that she would dwell 

With greatest things, or dwell alone. 



TO LADY KATHARINE MANNERS 49 
And various though her mundane lot, 

She counts herself benignly starred, — 
All her vicissitudes forgot 
In your regard. 

Windermere, 

Aicgust 1897. 



INVENTION 

I ENVY not the Lark his song divine, 

Nor thee, O Maid, thy beauty's faultless 
mould. 
Perhaps the chief felicity is mine, 
Who hearken and behold. 

The joy of the Artificer Unknown 

Whose genius could devise the Lark and 
thee — 
This, or a kindred rapture, let me own, 
I covet ceaselessly ! 



THE LURE 

Come hither and behold them, Sweet - 
The fairy prow that o'er me rides, 

And white sails of a lagging Fleet 
On idle tides. 

Come hither and behold them, Sweet - 

The lustrous gloom, the vivid shade, 

The throats of love that burn and beat 



And shake the glade. 



52 - , THE LURE 

Come, for the hearts of all things pine, 

And all the paths desire thy feet, 
And all this beauty asks for thine, 
As I do, Sweet ! 



THE LOST EDEN 

But yesterday was Man from Eden driven. 
His dream, wherein he dreamed himself the 

first 
Of creatures, fashioned for eternity — 
This was the Eden that he shared with 

Eve. 



Eve, the adventurous soul within his soul ! 
The sleepless, the unslaked! She showed 
him where 



54 ' THE LOST EDEN 

Amidst his pleasance hung the bough whose 

fruit 
Is disenchantment and the perishing 
Of many glorious errors. And he saw 
His paradise how narrow : and he saw, — 
He, who had welhiigh deemed the world 

itself 
Of less significance and majesty 
Than his own part and business in it ! — how 
Little that part, and in how great a world. 
And an imperative world-thirst drave him 

forth, 
And the gold gates of Eden clanged behind. 

Never shall he return : for he hath sent 
His spirit abroad among the infinitudes, 



THE LOST EDEN 55 

And may no more to the ancient pales recall 
The travelled feet. But oftentimes he feels 
The intolerable vastness bow him down, 
The awful homeless spaces scare his soul ; 
And half-regretful he remembers then 
His Eden lost, as some grey mariner 
May think of the far fields where he was 

bred, 
And woody ways unbreathed-on by the sea, 
Though more familiar now the ocean-paths 
Gleam, and the stars his fathers never knew. 



<. 



TO THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH 

IN ANSWER TO HIS SONNET *' ON READING 
*THE PURPLE EAST'" 

Idle the churlish leagues 'twixt you and me, 
Singer most rich in charm, most rich in 

grace ! 
What though I cannot see you face to face ? 
Allow my boast, that one in blood are we ! 
One by that secret consanguinity 
Which binds the children of melodious 

race, 



TO THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH 57 

And knows not the fortuities of place, 
And cold interposition of the sea. 
You are my noble kinsman in the lyre : 
Forgive the kinsman's freedom that I use, 
Adventuring these imperfect thanks, who 

late, 
Singing a nation's woe, in wonder and ire, — 
Against me half the wise and all the great, — ■ 
Sang not alone, for with me was your muse. 



A COURTEZAN — A PATRON 

Consider her : a woman in whose heart 

Whiteness had once some part : 
A woman from whose heart, to-day, is 
hidden 

No lore of things forbidden. 

And him? Unholy scriptures who could 

spy, 

Writ in that brow and eye ? 
Lightly on man they are pencilled; deep- 
tattooed 
On hapless womanhood ! 



ELUSION 

Where shall I find thee, Joy? by what 

great marge 
With the strong seas exulting? on what 

peaks 
Rapt? or astray within what forest bourn, 
Thy light hands parting the resilient 

boughs ? 

Hast thou no answer? . . . Ah, in mine own 
breast 



6o ' , ELUSION 

Except unsought thou spring, though I go 

forth 
And tease the waves for news of thee, and 

make 
Importunate inquisition of the woods 
If thou didst pass that way, I shall but find 
The brief print of thy footfall on sere leaves 
And the salt brink, and woo thy touch in 

vain. 



TOO LATE 

Too late to say farewell, 
To turn, and fall asunder, and forget, 
And take up the dropped life of yesterday! 
So ancient, so far-off, is yesterday. 
To the last hour ere I had kissed thy cheek ! 

Too late to say farewell. 

Too late to say farewell. 
Can aught remain hereafter as of old ? 
A touch, a tone hath changed the heaven and 
earth. 



6.2 • ^ TOO LATE 

And in a hand-clasp all begins anew. 
Somewhat of me is thine, of thee is mine. 
Too late to say farewell. 

Too late to say farewell. 
We are not May-day masquers, thou and I ! 
We have lived deep life, we have drunk of 

tragic springs. 
'Tis for light hearts to take light leave of 

love, 
But ah, for me, for thee, too late, dear 
Spirit ! 

Too late to say farewell. 



POEMS ON PUBLIC AFFAIRS 



JUBILEE NIGHT IN WESTMOR- 
LAND 

Through that majestic and sonorous day, 
When London was one gaze on her own 

joy, 

I walked where yet is silence undeflowered, 
In the lone places of the fells and meres; 
And afterward ascended, night being come, 
To where, high on a salient coign of crag. 
Fuel was heaped, as on some altar old. 
Whose immemorial priests propitiated, 

E 



66 ' jtJBILEE NIGHT 

With unrecorded rites, forgotten gods. 
Darkly along the ridge the village folk 
Had gathered, waiting till the unborn fire 
Should, from its durance in the mother pine, 
Leap; and anon was given the signal 

thrice 
A mimic meteor hissed aloft, and fell 
All jewels, while the wondering hound that 

couched 
Beside me lifted up his head and bayed 
At the strange portent, with a voice that 

called 
Far echoes forth, out of the hollow vales. 
Then the piled timber blazed against the 

clouds. 



JUBILEE NIGHT (>-] 

Roaring, and oft, a monstrous madcap, 
shook 

Hilarious sides, and showered ephemeral 
gold. 

And one by one the mountain peaks for- 
swore 

Their vowed impassiveness, the mountain 
peaks 

Confessed emotion, and I saw these kings 

Doing perfervid homage to a Queen. 

Long watched I, and at last to the sweet 
dale 

Went down, with thoughts of two great 
women, thoughts 



68 ' ^.UBILEE NIGHT 

Of two great women who have ruled this 

land; 
Of her, that mirrored a fantastic age, 
The imperious, vehement, abounding Spirit, 
Mightily made, but gusty as those winds, 
Her wild allies that broke the spell of Spain; 
And her who sways, how silently ! a world 
Dwarfing the glorious Tudor' s queenliest 

dreams ; 
Who, to her wellnigh more than mortal task. 
Hath brought the strength-in-sweetness that 

prevails. 
The regal will that royally can yield : 
Mistress of many peoples, heritress 
Of many thrones, wardress of many seas ; 



JUBILEE NIGHT 69 

But destined, more melodiously than thus, 
To be hereafter and for ever hailed, 
When our imperial legend shall have fired 
The lips of sage and poet, and when these 
Shall, to an undispersing audience, sound 
No sceptred name so winningly august 
As Thine, my Queen, Victoria the Beloved ! 



HELLAS, HAIL! 
(written on the; eve of the war) 

Little land so great of heart, 
'Midst a world so abject grown, 

Must thou play thy glorious part, 
Hellas, gloriously alone? 

Shame on Europe's arms, if she 

Leave her noblest work to thee ! 

While she slept her sleep of death. 
Thou hast dared and thou hast done ; 

Faced the Shape whose dragon breath 
Fouls the splendour of the sun. 



HELLAS, HAIL! 71 

Thine to show the world the way, 
Thine the only deed to-day. 

Thou, in this thy starry hour, 

Sittest throned all thrones above. 

Thou art more than pomp and power, 
Thou art liberty and love. 

Doubts and fears in dust be trod : 

On, thou mandatory of God ! 

Who are these, would bind thy hands ? 

Knaves and dastards, none beside. 
All the just in all the lands 

Hail thee blest and sanctified, — 
Curst, who would thy triumph mar, 
Be he Kaiser, be he Czar. 



72 ' ''HELLAS, HAIL! 

Breathing hatred, plotting strife, 

Rending beauty, blasting joy, 
Loathsome round the tree of life 

Coils the Worm we would destroy. 
Whoso smites yon Thing Abhorred, 
Holy, holy is his sword. 

Foul with slough of all things ill, 
Turkey lies full sick, men say. 

Not so sick but she hath still 

Strength to torture, spoil, and slay ! 

O that ere this hour be past. 

She were prone in death at last I 

Kings, like lacqueys, at her call 
Raise her, lest in mire she reel. 



HELLAS, HAIL! 73 

Only through her final fall 

Comes the hope of human weal. 
Slowly, by such deeds as thine, 
Breaks afar the light divine. 

Not since first thy wine-dark wave 
Laughed in multitudinous mirth. 

Hath a deed more pure and brave 
Flushed the wintry cheek of Earth. 

There is heard no melody 

Like thy footsteps on the sea. 

Fiercely sweet as stormy Springs, 
Mighty hopes are blowing wide; 

Passionate prefigurings 
Of a world re-vivified : 



74* ftELLAS, HAIL! 

Dawning thoughts, that ere they set 
Shall possess the ages yet. 

Oh ! that she were with thee ranged, 
Who, for all her faults, can still. 

In her heart of hearts unchanged, 
Feel the old heroic thrill ; 

She, my land, my loved, mine own! — 

Yet thou art not left alone. 

All the Powers that soon or late 
Gain for Man some sacred goal, 

Are co-partners in thy fate, 
Are companions of thy soul. 

Unto thee all Earth shall bow : 

These are Heaven, and these are thou. 



AFTER DEFEAT 

Pray, what chorus this ? At the tragedy's end, 

what chorus ? 
Surely bewails it the brave, the unhappily 

starred, the abandoned 
Sole unto fate, by yonder invincible kin of the 

vanquished ? 
Surely salutes it the fallen, not mocks the 

protagonist prostrate? 

Hark. " Make merry. Ye dreamed that a 
monster sickened : behold him 



7<5 ' ''AFTER DEFEAT 

Rise, new-fanged. Make merry. A hero 

troubled and shamed you : 
Jousting in desperate lists, he is trodden of 

giants in armour. 
Mighty is Night. Make merry. The Dawn 

for a season is frustrate." 

Thus, after all these ages, a paean, a loud 

jubilation, 
Mounts, from peoples bemused, to a heaven 

refraining its thunder. 



THE THREE NEIGHBOURS 

AN APOLOGUE 

Jack, and his brother Sandy, long had been 
On some such terms with their half-brother 
Pat 

As immemorially subsist between 

The average dog and unregenerate cat : 

A state of things in which, as you have seen. 
Life, if unprofitable, scarce is flat, 

But may at least one desperate ill defy — 

That Dulness of which men and nations 
die. LOFC. 



•78 ' THE^THREE NEIGHBOURS 
Now Jack's and Sandy's tenements were what 
The rhetoric of the Auction would have 
styled 
Semi-detached — an eligible lot. 

Jack's faced the south, and was the neatlier 
tiled 
And roomier. Sandy's had less garden plot, 

And gables to the north wind reconciled. 
Across the brook stood Pat's poor cabin — 

thatched. 
And green with moss : a residence detached. 

Biggest and burliest of our worthies thr-ee, 
Jack had sent forth his edict that whene'er, 

In Pat's or Sandy's house, necessity 
Arose for renovation or repair. 



THE THREE NEIGHBOURS 79 

Then Pat or Sandy, as the case might be, 
In his (Jack's) parlour must these wants 
declare. 
And not a single rotten lath remove 
Till all the parties (unconcerned) approve. 

Nor was this all. For on tne upper floor, 
Above Jack's parlour, v/as a sacred room. 

Where claims adjudged below were heard 
once more 
Amid a lethal peace as of the tomb, — ■ 

Where settled questions re-emerged, before 
An ancient Phantom uttering ghostly 
doom 

With hollow murmur and eternal drone 

And other-world-beo-ottcn monotone. 



So THE ^HREE NEIGHBOURS 

On Sandy's part was no deep dissidence. 

From his own door to Jack's was but a 
stride. 
There was not ev'n a privet-hedge or fence 

Their recognised allotments to divide. 
And they were brothers, who, till age brought 
sense, 
Had mutually been pummeled and black- 
eyed: 
By which a cordial understanding grew 
'Twixt men one-minded — though with fists 
for two. 

Pat's case was different From his lonelier 
cot, 
Beyond the brawling of that fatal brook, 



THE THREE NEIGHBOURS 8i 

For ever with a sullen brow and hot 

To Jack's his uncongenial way he took; 
Dreamed of dead glories men remembered 
not; 
And, conscious of his poor-relation look — 
Loth, from his cabin, at such call, to roam — 
In Jack's fine parlour never felt at home. 

"Though we be neighbours," — thus protested 
Pat, — 
" I am far off in blood, aloof in creed. 
Half-brother.? Less, a hundred times, than 
that! 
Of alien lineage sprung, and wilder seed. 
And master once in my own house I sat. 
Only for rule of my own house I plead. 



82 the\hree neighbours 



Nor can the leave to sit in yours atone 
For lack of leave to call my own, my own. 

"A bare house, as you saw, and cold fireside! 

Through many a chink the mad winds pipe 
and dance. 
And you grow merry if I speak of pride — 

Pride in so beggared an inheritance. 
Yet some old echoes still with me abide 

Of arts and arms not shamed by yours, 
perchance. 
And trust me, you shall crave repose in vain 
Till I be lord of that poor hearth again." — • 

Thus, to the strong, the weaker. And while 
none 



THE THREE NEIGHBOURS 83 

Can doubt the final freeing of the thrall, 
'Mid many counsels sure the noblest one 

Is to do justice though the heaven should 
fall. 
And truly, heaven shall fall not, this being 
done. 
Yea, and no whit less truly, upon ail 
Who to the voice of justice give not heed, 
At last, in fire and storm, heaven falls indeed. 



List of Books 



IN 



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JOHN LANE: THE BODLEY HEAD 

140 FIFTH AVENUE 

NEW YORK 

1897 



*. A 

List of Books in Belles Lettres 



ADAMS (FRANCIS). 

Essays in Modernity. Crown 8vo. $1.50. 

[/;2 preparation. 
A. E. 

The Earth Breat;h[ and Other Poems. Fcap. 

8vo. $1.25. 
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The Lower Slopes. Crown 8vo. $1.50. 

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Patience Sparhawk and her Times. A Novel. 
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St. Augustine at Ostia : Oxford Sacred Poem. 
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A Man from the North. A Novel. Crown Svo. 

$1.25. 

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BODLEY BOOKLETS (THE). 

With Cover Design by Will H. Bradley. 32mo, 
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I. The Happy Hypocrite : A Fairy Tale for Tired 

Men. By Max Beerbohm. 
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II. The Making of a Schoolgirl. By Evelyn 

Sharp. 
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Rosemary FOR Remembrance. Fcap. Svo. ^1.21;. 



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. j^ _ . — 

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014 548 718 3 



